


A Hate Cake?

by ElizaEnjolrasdeLioncourt



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-15
Updated: 2016-07-15
Packaged: 2018-07-24 05:52:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7496379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElizaEnjolrasdeLioncourt/pseuds/ElizaEnjolrasdeLioncourt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire and Jehan own a bakery. Cosette works there. Montparnasse comes in and orders a hate cake. Jehan immediately falls.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Hate Cake?

Grantaire and Jehan owned their own bakery; they called it “ABC Bakery”. Cosette worked with them, it started with them calling her and asking how to make pale orange icing out of chocolate icing, and she miraculously could. They hired her on the spot.

Jehan was in charge of decorating the cakes and pastries for a total of thirty minutes, until Grantaire realized that his fashion sense (or lack thereof) bled through to his cake decorating style.

So now Jehan was in charge of the actual baking and Grantaire did all the decorations, except for the time when someone ordered Edgar Allen Poe themed cupcakes. Jehan was on that. Grantaire couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw the finished products.

“Jehan, how did you get all of this from Poe?” Grantaire asked him.

Jehan pointed at each individual cupcake, “That one is The Raven, that one is Fall of the House of Usher, that one is The Cask of Amontillado…shall I go on?”

“No…I get it…just wow, they’re great! Cosette did you see these?”

Cosette came out from the back, “Jehan! These look great!” she pulled out her phone, “I’m posting them on the Facebook, and Insta, and Twitter pages!”

 

Enjolras came in everyday to visit Grantaire at lunch, and every day he left with a red velvet cupcake in his hand and a kiss from Grantaire.

“You’re going to make me fat, R!” Enjolras complained as he started eating the cupcake.

“Never,” Grantaire said.

“How do you always have red velvet?”

“Because they’re my boyfriend’s favorite, that’s why,” Grantaire said kissing Enj’s cheek, “Now get back to work, love.”

Marius came to visit Cosette most days as well.

 

All of Les Amis got their birthday cakes from Jehan and Grantaire. At night, Grantaire and Jehan made booze infused cupcakes for their customers.

 

Cosette had off one day, and Grantaire ran out to get milk, so Jehan was left alone to man the counter.

A young man in a leather jacket pulled his motor cycle up to the curb out front and strolled in at about noon, “You work here?”

Jehan looked up to see the most attractive man he’d ever seen, “Yeah…yeah, can I help you?”

“Do you guys do hate cakes?” the stranger asked.

“Hate cakes?” Jehan asked furrowing his brow.

“Yeah, you know…like cakes with nasty messages on them…hate cakes?”

“Well…uumm…I suppose I could do that,” Jehan said wondering why someone would buy a cake for someone they clearly don’t like.

“Great,” the man said.

Jehan pulled a blank sheet cake with vanilla frosting and a red boarder already on it, “Is this one OK? I can just write whatever you want on it.”

“Yeah…could you put some flowers around the outside too? I want it to look like a normal cake before you actually read it,” he asked.

“Sure,” Jehan set it on the base of a cake box and started piping red, yellow, blue and orange flowers. Jehan finished the flowers off with stems and a couple lady bugs, “And what would you like it to say?”

“Go die in a car fire,” the man replied almost too quickly for Jehan’s comfort, “in really nice script.”

“You’ve put a lot of thought into this, I’m guessing?”

“People piss me off, I get revenge…in little ways like this for the people, like my asshole friend who almost sold me out to the cops, I can’t exactly…you know what never mind.”

Jehan was sure he didn’t want to hear the rest of that sentence, “Red is fine for the writing?”

“Perfect, actually,” he replied.

Jehan finished the writing, “Here we go, all finished,” he said showing him the cake.

“That’s great!” he smiled devilishly.

Jehan folded the box up, and the man paid for the cake.

“So do you have a name, or should I just call you Little Bird?” he stranger asked.

Jehan blushed, “Jean Prouvaire, but everyone just calls me Jehan…I think it sounds more poetic.”

“It certainly does, Jehan,” the man replied.

“And don’t you have a name?” Jehan asked jokingly, “Or shall I just call you the man who stole my heart and bought a hate cake?”

“Montparnasse,” he replied before realizing what Jehan had said and turning ever so slightly pink.

“Well, enjoy your hate cake, Montparnasse,” Jehan smirked, “I’ll see you around, I hope.”

“You certainly will, Little Bird,” Montparnasse smiled.

“I told you, it’s Jehan,” he called after Montparnasse as he left.

“I know you did,” he said over his shoulder, somehow getting the cake onto his motorcycle and driving away.

Grantaire returned a few minutes later with the milk, “Any customers while I was gone?”

Jehan was smiling like 13 year-old with a crush behind the counter, “Just one…he got a hate cake.”

 

“Oh, no…Jehan I know that face,” Grantaire said eyes widening, “You’ve gone and fallen head over heels for this man haven’t you?”

“What makes you think that?” Jehan asked, innocently.

“You’ve been cleaning that same spot for the past three minutes,” Grantaire said.

“So what if I have?”

“Do you even know his name?”

“It’s Montparnasse, if you must know,” Jehan said, “He’s very attractive and rides a motorcycle.”

“You’ve fallen for a bad boy,” Grantaire gasped, “Jehan…I’m so proud of you.”

“Oh shut up,” Jehan laughed.

 

Grantaire got to meet the man in question two days later when he pulled up on his motorcycle once more in search of the poet.

Jehan was in the back with Cosette when he arrived.

“Hey, is Jehan working today?” Montparnasse asked Grantaire.

“Yeah, I’ll go get him,” Grantaire replied before walking back to the kitchen to get Jehan.

“Thanks,” Montparnasse said.

“Jehan, your motorcycle-riding leather-clad bad boy is here,” Grantaire teased him.

Jehan pulled his apron off and walked up to the counter, “Montparnasse, how can I help you?” he smiled.

“What are you doing tonight; I’d like to take you on a date?” Montparnasse asked, “If you’d like to go on a date with me that is.”

“I’d love to,” Jehan smiled, blushing softly, “Pick me up here at eight.”

“Wonderful,” Montparnasse said with a cat-like grin, “See you at eight, Little Bird.”

With that, Montparnasse pulled a rose from behind his back and handed it to Jehan. He turned and walked out of the bakery and rode away.

 

Hate cake inspired by http://www.alleewillis.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2010/11/car-fire-cake.jpg


End file.
